Jason Isbell ist ein neuer Stern am US-amerikanischen Songwriter-Himmel. Einer, der sich anschickt in die großen Fußstapfen von Ikonen wie Bruce Springsteen und Steve Earle zu treten. Mit 22 Jahren wurde Jason Isbell 2001 Mitglied der Americana- und Cowpunk-Band Drive-By Truckers aus Athens/Georgia („Lynyrd Skynyrd’s arty nephews“, wie der Rolling Stone einmal treffend schrieb) mit denen er einige Jahre zusammenspielte und bei denen er als guter Songschreiber auffiel. 2007 verließ er die Band und veröffentlichte im selben Jahr sein Debütalbum, bevor später zwei Platten mit seiner Begleitband The 400 Unit folgten. Der Durchbruch als Solokünstler gelang ihm 2013 mit dem formidablen Album „Southeastern“, das auf seinem eigenen, gleichnamigen Label erschienen ist. Neben herausragenden Kritiken in der Fachpresse von Mojo und Uncut bis zum Rolling Stone, gewann Jason Isbell gleich drei Preise bei den Americana Music Awards 2014. Das neue Album „Something More Than Free“ wurde wie der Vorgänger von Dave Cobb (Beck, Sturgill Simpson, Houndmouth) produziert und im Sound Emporium Studio in Nashville aufgenommen. Bis Ende des Jahres wird Jason Isbell vor allem in den USA live zu sehen sein, unter anderem bei gleich vier in Folge (!) ausverkauften Shows im Ryman Auditorium in Nashville. Die erste Single, der an REM erinnernde tolle Ohrwurm „24 Frames“ schaffte es bereits in die „Favorite Songs of 2015 so far“ des National Public Radios, wo man dem „neuen Springsteen aus dem Süden“ huldigt: „Throw out all your self-help manuals: The South’s new Springsteen shares how to survive life’s little disasters in this reflective, jangly rocker.“ Auch der Rest des feinen Albums ist nicht von schlechten Eltern, ob nun der countryeske Titeltrack, das rockende „Palmetto Rose“, das an Steve Earle erinnernde „If It Takes A Lifetime“ oder das flotte „How To Forget“. Verwurzelt im Country & Folk und in der modernen Ausformung des Americana ist Jason Isbell weit davon entfernt, schlichte Südstaaten-Klischees zu bedienen. So hat er sich nach dem schrecklichen Massaker in einer schwarzen Kirche in Charleston auf Twitter in die Diskussion um die Südstaaten-Flagge eingemischt: „Seeing a confederate flag makes me angry and sad because it represents a refusal of certain small-minded people to grow and change.“. Tradierte Folklore ist halt streng von rassistischen Gedankengut und seinen Symbolen zu trennen, Hut ab !
JOHN MORELAND
High on Tulsa Heat
Some days, being John Moreland has to hurt. As others bury experiences and stifle regrets,Moreland pokes old wounds until you’re sure they’ve got to be bleeding again. It’s painful. But inMoreland’s care, it’s also breathtakingly beautiful. With the release of his highly anticipated thirdsolo album High on Tulsa Heat (out April 21st via Thirty Tigers), he offers another round of thelyrics-first, gorgeously plaintive songs that have earned him devoted listeners across the country.Moreland started writing when he was 10 years old, the same year his family moved fromKentucky, to Tulsa, Oklahoma, where he still lives today. He turns 30 this year, but he’s beenslinging songs for more than half his life. He started fronting local punk and hardcore bands inhigh school. After graduation, he had an epiphany. “I’d just overexposed myself to punk andhardcore to the point that it just didn’t do anything for me anymore,” he says. The remedy? Heditched his music for his dad’s: CCR, Neil Young, Tom Petty, Steve Earle.“I think what appealed to me about it was lyrics,” he says. “In hardcore, there might be great lyricsin a song but you have to read them off a piece of paper to know it. I was 19 in 2004, and SteveEarle had put out ‘The Revolution Starts Now,’ and I remember hearing the song ‘Rich Man’sWar’ and totally feeling like somebody just punched me in the chest.”Moreland’s been chasing the chest punch ever since, composing pointedly and prodigiously. “I’vealways written to make myself feel better, I think,” he says. “It’s my way of figuring stuff out –figuring out where I stand. You can’t do that without emotion. You can’t do that insincerely.”When Moreland released In the Throes in the June of 2013, the album didn’t just charm listeners– it stunned them. American Songwriter proclaimed that “[t]hose not familiar with the OklahomaCity singer-songwriter should remedy that pronto,” while No Depression declared the collection“isn’t so much songwriting as alchemy with words and music.” MSNBC host Rachel Maddowheard his songs and joined the chorus, tweeting: “If the American music business made anysense, guys like John Moreland would be household names.”If In the Throes ignited Moreland’s 2013 summer, FX’s Sons of Anarchy poured gasoline all overthe fire that fall. The hit series featured three Moreland-penned and -performed gems: “Heaven,”off of his Earthbound Blues, the second of two full-length albums he released in 2011; and“Gospel” and “Your Spell,” both from In the Throes.As word continued to spread and Moreland played more and more shows, a pattern began toemerge: his songs hit listeners hard. While his precise, evocative lyrics often get the credit, hisvoice — a scritchy-scratch baritone capable of soul-shouting but especially potent in its subdueddefault register — ensures his lines linger.“I got so used to playing in bars where you’re just kind of in a corner,” he says. “You’re justbackground music, and nobody gives a fuck about you. It was so soul sucking. I would try to singin a way that would get people’s attention.”For Moreland, that didn’t mean screaming or gimmicks. “If you just sing it like you mean it — likeso hard that people can’t ignore it…” He trails off for a second, then concludes: “That’s what I wastrying to do.”These days when Moreland performs, rooms ordinarily buzzing with drunken chatter and clangingglasses fall silent.When he decided to head back to the studio to record the follow-up to In the Throes, Morelandadmits he felt more pressure than in previous sessions. “I just tried to ignore it because I figuredit’s probably not a good way to make a record,” he says. “But yeah. It was in the back of mymind.”High expectations must agree with him. High on Tulsa Heat is a triumphant sequel, pulsing withthe sharply drawn imagery and cutting vulnerability that his listeners have come to expect.Produced by Moreland, the 10-song collection features a strong cast of players including JesseAycock (Hard Working Americans, Secret Sisters), John Calvin Abney (Samantha Crain, TheDamn Quails), Jared Tyler (Malcolm Holcombe), Chris Foster, and Kierston White.Stripped-down arrangements rooted in gritty rock and roll punctuate and cushion Moreland’scompositions. Tracks including “Hang Me in the Tulsa County Stars,” “Heart’s Too Heavy,” and“Cleveland County Blues” set the tone, trafficking in relentless honesty and folk.Buoyant lament “Sad Baptist Rain” tackles internal conflict. “I was just trying to grab this scene ofbeing a 16-year-old church kid in the parking lot of the punk rock show trying to reconcile havingsome fun with my Southern Baptist guilt,” he says, with a hint of a laugh. If “Sad Baptist Rain” isabout self-acceptance, “White Flag” warns of self-destruction. “It’s a song about wanting orneeding somebody so bad that you’re willing to destroy yourself for it,” he explains.“American Flags in Black and White,” grapples with nostalgia, and while Moreland initially seemsto condemn it, he ends up acknowledging its comfort, framing the past as everyone’s guiltypleasure. He never really condemns or judges anyone — except himself. “Anytime I do write asong that I feel like is more like pointing a finger at somebody, it never feels good and I alwaysjust end up throwing it away,” he says.The album also includes the first recording of live show staple “Cherokee.” Based on a vividdream, the song explores longing, shame, forgiveness, and love. “I want it to be open ended,” hesays of “Cherokee” and his songs in general. “I don’t want to be told what happened or how tofeel.”“You Don’t Care for Me Enough to Cry” proves once again that Moreland does intoxicatingly sadas well or better than anyone, but the concluding title track rollicks victoriously, relishing thethought of a safe place — an idea Moreland says serves as a loose theme for the album. “A homeis something I’ve really wanted,” he says. “But that means you have to figure out what that reallymeans and what it is. The record is about those questions.”